long live
by candycity
Summary: 4: You look into the mirror and you wonder how she can see a man in the monster that stares back at you. Natsume-centric, NatsuMikan.
1. long live

To the student body, they are legends: fantastical figures from a story-book - invincible - untouchable. but to them, they're just two teenagers in love.

/

Everybody knows their names.

Natsume-and-Mikan, they're called - the living legends, the campus couple.

She, the girl with the smile like sunshine: she is sweetness personified, with her caramel-hair and toffee-eyes, her laugh that rings with an untainted innocence that is reminescent of candy-apples shared underneath clear summer night skies. He, the boy with the eyes like blood and fire: who has an unexplainable, unimaginable power emanating from every pore, every inch of his body - and yet he possesses a kindness, an almost aching gentleness and vulnerability that is difficult to understand.

Natsume-and-Mikan, they're called. They see them shine, and they cry out in delight, _long live;_ they see them sparkle, and they gush of their perfection.

_They don't know anything._

:.:

They don't know that he used to be a delinquent who spent his life like 100-yen-coins, slotting them into machines for five seconds of amusement, throwing them into wishing-wells for empty hope and hopeless redemption.

They don't know that she used to be a silly little girl who felt more than she thought, who said things she didn't mean, who never delved deeper into the darkness than she could help, never wanted to, never cared.

They don't know how they saved each other back then, and how they live, breathe for each other now.

They don't know the petty jealousy, the stupid arguments, the slams of the door as she storms out, the ache in his chest as he pretends not to care.

They don't know the endless nights spent waiting, waiting, waiting - her for his missions to end, him for her to come back. The prickle of anxiety, the heavy exhaustion, the metallic taste of dread and the fear that never really leaves.

They don't know the price they paid.

:.:

But they also don't know the small things: the box of Fluff Puffs slid under the door the night before an exam, the first-aid kit and case of painkillers that she keeps beside her bed even though he never goes for missions anymore - just in case.

They don't see his faint blush when she goes up on tiptoe to press a butterfly kiss upon his cheek, or the special smile she reserves for him when he takes her hand or offers to carry her books. They don't hear the lighthearted, easy banter - his affectionate insults, her endless chatter about everything under the sun. They don't feel the inexplicable warmth when she slips her hand in his, or that tiny flutter in her chest when he offers her a rare smile.

They don't see that really, despite the heartache and the drama and the romance, the magical fairy-tales and the legendary escapades, they're really just two stupid teenagers in love.

:.:

"_Long live."_

* * *

><p>Just a little piece I did in like fifteen minutes. Raw, unedited, and pure, pointless sentiment.<p>

I'll update mixed feelings and maid cafés as soon as my A-Levels are over, I swear. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this, and if you did, please tell me so in a review (:


	2. endlessly

Okay so, I've decided that I've been flooding the GA archive way too much. So I decided to make this a sort of compilation (read: dumping ground) for any NatsuMikan ficlets I might write: those under a thousand words or so.

This one is called _endlessly_. Enjoy ^.^

* * *

><p><em>It's the same thing, everyday<em>.

She wakes up to an empty apartment. After a moment, she begins to busy herself with the housework, sweeping floors, wiping down the windows. She reads the note on the table and sighs, lapsing into a contemplative silence before finally getting dressed for her job at the local daycare centre.

It's not a glamorous job, but after all, what can a Nullification Alice do? She'd considered getting a job as an Alice bodyguard at one point, or a teacher at the Academy, but Natsume had silenced her with a look.

"You've given the Academy enough," he'd said, "you're not going back, not ever."

_Not until they fix things up, _were the unspoken words. Mikan knows how hard her uncle, and, more recently, Yuu and of course _him_, are working trying to rid the Academy of its corrupt corporate influences. In every phone call, she can hear the faint exhaustion in their voices, the slight hoarseness that speaks of long hours of endless negotiations.

It isn't her fight, but it's still tough, sitting at the sidelines.

It's not that bad, in all honesty. The pay's not very much, but the hours are flexible and she eats lunch there, if just to save a few hundred yen, because, God knows, every bit counts. Besides, she loves children, anyway. Working at a daycare is tiring, but it fits her.

At five o'clock, the day ends and the children return home. She arrives back at the rental flat at six and prepares dinner: rice, a few side dishes, clear soup.

She tries her best, and he never complains, but she remembers his Special-Star meals back at the Academy and she wishes, oh, she _wishes_ so damn much that she could do better.

He arrives home at eight. His gaze, though wrought with exhaustion, automatically softens at the sight of his fianceé, and she kisses him on the cheek, offering a heartbreakingly warm smile that still makes his chest ache. There is a comfortable atmosphere as they eat - a feeling of what is undeniably _home_, with affectionate smiles and gentle teasing and careless banter.

But there is also the lingering exhaustion - she sees it in the shadows underneath his eyes, the hunch of his shoulders, the rasp in his tone.

And she hates that it's not her fight, _hates_ that it has to be, of all people, _his_.

_Why him?_

_He's given them too much, too. _

He sees her expression - because, God knows, she never could hide anything from him - and he sends her a reassuring reaches over and takes her hand, his thumb absently caressing the burnished silver ring that encircles his fourth finger - the one where, she knows, their initials have been carved into solid metal.

_Forever_, he'd said as he slid it on, eyes glimmering with a softness, an almost achingly earnest affection and she wonders, _what did she ever do to deserve this man?_

That was three years ago, but even now, the warmth in his eyes when he looks at her has never faltered.

"I'm okay, silly girl," he says, reaching over to playfully flick her forehead, drawing a pout from her, "it's only for a few more months, and besides, it pays well."

_We need the money. _

"Just wait, okay?"

_You'll be the most beautiful bride. _

"It'll be all over soon."

_I love you. _

"I know," she says, and leans over to brush the hair out of his eyes, her cool touch lingering long enough to send a shiver down his spine, "We'll be okay."

_I love you, too._

:.:

"_I'm not perfect, I'm just me -_

_But I will love you endlessly."_ - Endlessly, The Cab

* * *

><p>Why did I write this?<p>

I don't know if it'll appeal to the younger audiences here, but the thing is, in countries like Japan (and, yes, in Singapore, where I live, as well), the reality isn't all that comfortable. The cost of living is very, very high, and it's intensely competitive so it's really not all that easy being a millionaire (despite all those tropes about Natsume being a multi-billionaire by age twenty-three - well, I don't know). Often, people don't get married until they're nearly thirty, if not older - not because of work, but because of the sheer amount of money it takes just to simply settle the down payment on an apartment and take care of household expenses.

This is my humble view of a more realistic series of events that would occur upon their graduation. If it wasn't obvious, they're basically just any other engaged couple in cohabitation, struggling to make ends meet so they can get married.

Gosh, I'm sorry, I rambled on for a bit too long, didn't I? Anyway, I hope you liked it, and if you did, please do review (:


	3. hyuuga daycare

Mikan discovers Natsume's weakness: kids.

**/**

She'd figured Youchi was an isolated case.

It was a perfectly justified assumption. The kid was a Dangerous Ability type, for God's sake. He was adorable. He was Natsume in miniature. Of _course, _Natsume adored him.

And of course, that meant that Youchi had her boyfriend wrapped around his tiny little finger.

"Natsume nii-chan," he'd say, "I want juice." About three seconds later, Natsume would have bullied some hapless female into going to the vending machine. And more often than not, paying for the drink, too.

"Natsume nii-chan, I want new toys." And there went half of Natsume's ridiculous 300-rabbit-allowance on DIY aeroplanes and Xbox consoles and Nintendo DS game cartridges.

"Natsume nii-chan, can I sleep with you?" To be honest, though, finding the pair asleep in bed was pretty freaking adorable. Hotaru swears the profits she made over that one photo were unparalleled to this day.

But back to the point. _This isn't her fault._

Maybe she's getting ahead of herself. Cut to two days earlier.

**:.:**

"Sakura-san," the harassed-looking substitute'd practically begged, "could you and maybe a friend help look after Class A for a while? I'm sorry to bother you with this, I know you're in high school now and you probably don't have time, but -"

The poor guy had looked on the verge of tears. "I-I thought you wouldn't mind helping, since you were talking about becoming a teacher after leaving the Academy, too..."

Mikan had responded with a characteristic bright smile and an assurance that of _course_, she'd be more than happy to help, and so would Hotaru, _absolutely_ -

"Absolutely _not_," Hotaru said flatly. "Out of the question. Exams are coming up, and I'm not sparing a whole day surrounded by brats."

"Sorry, Mikan," was Ruka's apologetic response, "I'm really not good with kids. Why don't you ask Natsume?"

"Natsume?" she replied, incredulous. "He'd burn the classroom down."

Ruka laughed. "No way. Natsume is really good with kids, you know. And besides," a small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, "he wouldn't be able to say no to you."

"Yeah," Hotaru said with a smirk, "just do that thing with your tongue and -"

"Hotaru!" she exclaimed, cheeks aflame. "STOP TALKING."

"Isn't that usually the other way round?" an amused voice came from the doorway. Natsume was leaning against the doorframe, a small, affectionate smile playing across his lips at the sight of his girlfriend.

"You've become such a sap, Hyuuga," Hotaru commented with a roll of her eyes. Mikan narrowed her eyes slightly, before suddenly brightening.

"Actually, Ruka, you're right. He was always so good with Youchi. How bad could he be?"

The affectionate smile immediately vanished from Natsume's expression, replaced by one of suspicion. "Bad at what, exactly?"

"Babysitting, Natsume," Mikan said cheerfully. "You'll help me, won't you?"

He balked. "Babysitting? No way in hell."

"Why not?" Mikan protested, pouting. "It'll be fun! Besides, we haven't hung out in forever."

Wide eyes. Slight pout. _Strike one._

Natsume's stiff expression cracked slightly.

Hotaru smiled inwardly.

There was nothing more entertaining than seeing Hyuuga being brought down by her cheerfully ignorant best friend. And, it this case, it would probably be profitable, too.

"She'd probably need the help," Hotaru interjected. "There's that kid with the mind-controlling Alice, you know - rumour has it, that kid tried to force one of the teachers into handing over his wallet -"

An image of the harassed-looking substitute flashed across Mikan's mind.

"I wonder," Hotaru said, very deliberately, "what he could make Mikan do."

Natsume's eyelid twitched. _Strike two._

"She could nullify him," he said, without enthusiasm. Hotaru scoffed.

"He'd have her with one foot off the rooftop before she'd have realised he was messing with her mind."

"Hey!" Mikan began to protest, but was silenced with one look from Hotaru.

Ruka started to grin as he realised what Hotaru was doing. "Well, it's not like she needs you there, though," he said lightly. "I'm sure she could get someone else - in fact, _Yuu_ was always good with kids, yeah?" He winked at his girlfriend.

"I'm better," Natsume shot back automatically. _Strike three._

"Well, then," Hotaru says with a smile, "that settles it, right?"

_Game. Set. Match._

Finally, Natsume sighed. "Whatever," he mumbled, "I'll go."

"I don't need a bodyguard -" Mikan said indignantly.

"Shut up, Mikan," Hotaru and Ruka chorused in unison, their expressions showing varying amounts of glee.

Natsume scowled, which within seconds softened to resigned affection when Mikan flashed a blindingly bright thank-you smile at him.

"God, you really are a sap," Hotaru muttered under her breath.

"Shut up, Imai."

**:.:**

Cut to the present, where Natsume is sitting in the middle of the floor, with about twenty adoring kids - almost entirely female - surrounding him.

Apparently, his appeal was not solely confined to the 273 members (they'd expanded off-campus ever since Hotaru'd hacked into the school wifi and uploaded numerous pictures of the infamous pair) who met the minimum age limit for the Natsume-Ruka Fan Club.

A tug on his sleeve. "Natsume nii-chan, I want some candy."

A pleading gaze. "Natsume nii-chan, can we have tea together later?"

"Natsume nii-chan," says the fearsome mind-controller, in the form of an innocent-looking blue-eyed girl: "play dolls with us? Please?"

He glances up, almost pleadingly, and Mikan is leaning against the wall, observing the unexpected scene with a kind of wide-eyed amusement.

"Yeah, Natsume nii-chan," she echoes with a knowing grin, "play dolls with them, please?"

"Why don't you play dolls with them instead? This is your job, you know," Natsume hisses. Mikan grins.

"I'm busy being married to Haru-kun here," she says, casually twirling the ring pop around her finger. She gestures to the dark-haired kid who bears an uncanny resemblance to Natsume himself, who obligingly sticks out his tongue at Natsume.

"Besides," Mikan continues with a smirk, "I believe you owe that little girl there a playdate, lady-killer."

"Natsume nii-chan," a little girl cries, "will you marry me?"

At that exact moment, a camera flash lights up the room, along with a muffled swear.

Instinctively, Natsume claps his hands over his admirer's ears.

"Dammit, Ruka!" a voice floats into the classroom from the corridor. "You are so fired as my accomplice. I _told_ you to make sure the flash was switched off -"

"I _forgot_ -"

The door swings open, and Hotaru and Ruka stumble into the room. Ruka looks up and offers a weak smile.

There is silence for a moment.

"What, exactly," Natsume says, in a low, dangerous voice, "are you doing?"

The effect of that terrifying crimson gaze and the threat in his tone is somewhat dampened by the flower crown on his head and the tiny golden-haired, wide-eyed mind-controlling cherub on his lap.

Ruka's expression is unusually determined, like he's fighting the desperate urge to laugh. Mikan looks more amused then ever.

For a moment, nobody moves.

Then, quick as flash, Hotaru lifts her camera.

_Click_.

They stare at each other for about three seconds, before Hotaru turns her back and calmly walks out.

It takes all of Ruka's strength and considerable usage of Mikan's Nullifying Alice to stop Natsume from running out and setting the camera - and its user - on fire.

**:.:**

"You know," Mikan says, leaning contentedly against her boyfriend's chest underneath the Sakura tree afterwards, "Ruka was right. Kids really adore you. And you adore them."

Natsume scoffs. "I do not adore them."

Mikan rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on. You let that girl put a flower crown on you. Which, by the way, is a very interesting look on you - maybe you should do it more often -"

"Hell, no."

Mikan laughs and turns around, lifting her lips to meet his in a butterfly-light kiss.

"Are you blushing? Oh my gosh, you really are too cute."

"...Shut up."

* * *

><p>Am I posting like a new fic every day in the middle of my A-Levels? Why, yes I am. Hashtag shitassrolemodel96.<p>

If you'd like to see more, please do review! I'll take prompts or suggestions too, because why not, right?


	4. reflection

You look into the mirror and you wonder how she can see a man in the monster that stares back at you.

**/**

Humans are extraordinarily adaptable creatures.

As far as wonders of nature go, they are not particularly impressive in size or stature. They don't have the ferocious strength of the lion or the predatory cunning of the hyena, the regenerative abilities of the starfish or the hardiness of the cockroach. They don't have the hypnotising beauty of the peacock or the natural dexterity of the monkey, and even the intelligence that they are so arrogant about is not unrivalled by the dolphin or the octopus.

All humans have, and have ever had, is our unchallenged ability to adapt.

With this adaptive ability they have spread to the freezing north where they shield ourselves against the biting cold with houses cut from ice and coverings of stolen fur; they have survived in the driest of deserts where water is transported across vast distances in networks of pipes. They have not just adapted, in fact; they have thrived.

It is not so strange, then, that you, Hyuuga Natsume, have long since gotten used to the wary gazes and the hateful murmurs, the scrawled insults on the underside of your desk, the way people part like the Red Sea for you as you walk down the corridor.

Hell, it's almost easy. Your mind has long since accepted your isolation, compartmentalising this piece of information like any other. Yes, it might've been harder to bear emotionally, but your mind is as flexible as the best, after all, and it isn't so difficult to accept.

Human adaptibility has its limits, however. They have never borne well sudden anomalies to their habits, disruptions to their surroundings. Their immune systems eliminate foreign bodies, whether or not they may have the potential to be harmful, and when faced with an unexpected situation, their minds shut down and go into overdrive.

And perhaps that is why she is such a source of frustration for you.

She's an anomaly. She doesn't behave like the others do, doesn't act like the others act and doesn't behave like she's supposed to. She's unpredictable and impossible to compartmentalise (an enemy? an acquaintance? a friend? _more?_) and she's completely incomprehensible.

You can't seem to get rid of her.

Her name is Sakura Mikan, she says, and she's ten years old, with eyes the colour of honey and hair that is tied into the most ridiculously childish pigtails. She wears polka-dotted underwear and loses her temper easily and forgives even more easily. She is ignorant and she is naïve and she never shuts up, and you think that perhaps you might be in love with her.

You shut her out at first, because, God knows, you doesn't need any more vulnerabilities in your life. You can't protect everyone, and she'll be another weak spot in your armour.

_Stay out of the darkness you don't need to see. _When you tell her this, she just laughs. "Natsume," she says, with a toss of her hair, "I can take care of myself."

She leans over to press her lips to your cheek, and you temporarily forget your name.

And of course, naturally, just as you're starting to believe that maybe, just _maybe _you could have a happily-ever-after: your world erupts into war. In your bid to protect her, you die. But somehow, some way, you don't stay dead.

But when you wake up, she's gone.

**:.:**

The first night back in your room after you wake up, you stand for a long time in front of the mirror, and you wonder how she sees a man in the monster that stares back at you.

You've hurt so many.

Now, you've hurt her, too.

She's gone because of you, you remind yourself. She's gone, her best friend and her brother have been trapped in time, and it's all your fault.

A strangled cry forces its way from your throat, and there is a noise like a gunshot; you realise it is the cracking of glass. Your fist bleeds crimson into the thin lines crisscrossing in the mirror.

_I'll find you_, you vow, as the edges of your vision begin to fade to black._ I'll find you, and I'm make you remember._

The fragment of orange in your clenched fist seems to glow brighter in the gloom, and in your mind's eye, you think you see a flash of caramel-coloured hair. A smile. A tinkle of laughter.

_I swear I'll find you._

_I'll -_

* * *

><p>As promised, I updated <strong>mixed feelings and maid cafes<strong> (: This is just a little bonus in celebration of the end of my A-Levels, I hoped you like it!

As always, please do review, just a few lines can help make the day of an idiot teenager (:


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